Revival
by Oh SqueegeeMan
Summary: Angel passes and Collins mood shifts to deppresion. Can the bohos find a way through the steps of grief to a new revival and help Collins along the way?


"You guys," Joanne said, breaking the dead silence between the group of friends, all with tear stained faces. Each sat silently in the uncomfortable chairs of the hospital's waiting room. No one knew what to say. No one knew what to do. They were all way too shocked to even begin thinking about what would come of this. "Collins has been in there a long time. Don't you think we should do something?" It was less of a question and more of a suggestion, but still, no one stirred. "You guys," Joanne said once again, this time more stern trying her best to get everyone's' attention.

But still, they all sat silently. Joanne shook her head at the group disappointed. Maureen lightly gripped her hand from the chair next to her, trying to show her it was okay just to wait and soon enough, the group would be back, even though they all knew it would no longer be the group they longed for. But still Joanne sat restless in her seat, but decided not to say more.

The sounds of the hospital filled the waiting room. It seemed like all the doctors and nurses were busy helping people and talking, while the other people in the waiting room flipped through pages of magazines trying to pass time until it was their turn to see a doctor or nurse. Also, another young woman held her screaming baby in her arms, obviously annoying ones trying to silently wait and read. All these people were going on as if nothing was happening, while in the other room, Collins clutched the lifeless body of his soul mate.

But none of the sounds fazed the group. Every single person just sat thinking, trapped in their own thoughts. But even though they were their own thoughts, each was basically thinking the same thing. _Denial. _None wanted to believe what was going on. They couldn't. If they answered to Joanne, they would have to believe and they would have to know, that Angel was really gone. And no one wanted that. Angel couldn't be gone. She _couldn't. _

A young man in the corner cleared his throat as he prepared himself to actually talk, since he hadn't done that in a while. All he had been doing was crying... and practically dying. "I think Joanne is right," he said. It seemed like every member of the family of friends looked up to see if the soft voice had really come from Mark.

"Thank you," Joanne said with a sigh of relief. "We really should...don't you think..." she searched to find the right words to say. Saying the wrong thing at a time like this would just cause more chaos and confusion, more heartbreak. "Collins should be out here with us." Thankfully to everyone it seemed like the right thing to say because no one was disagreeing. She was right to all of them.

Although each of them knew that pulling Collins away from Angel would hurt him, in the long run, it would be better. Denial would be gone, and coping could cover its tracks. Of course, the pain would always be there, but the least they could do was pave the way to acceptance, the way to some sort of revival.

Joanne stood up slowly, lightly pulling her hand away from Maureen's grip. Maureen looked up at her partner, trying to show some sign telling her that she could do it, something to give her encouragement, but that smile couldn't form on her face no matter how hard she tried. There was no hiding how she felt. No hiding how anyone of them was feeling. Even with Benny's blank face, you could see the sorrow in his eyes.

Mark and Joanne made their way toward the room, hand in hand, touching of friendship, comfort, and love. Slowly, they made there way, and with a light push of the door, they were in the room. Their eyes reached Collins, tears still flowing like rivers down his red cheeks, his hands tightly wrapped around the love of his life.

From the time they had left the room in the beginning, to let Collins say his goodbyes, which was about an hour ago, his sobs had softened, and it gave them hope that soon Collins would be able to escape the pain that trapped him there. But sorrow was like a black hole, pulling you deeper and deeper until there is no way you can escape. They wondered how far Collins had been pulled down.

"Collins," Joanne said softly. She had begun with that little bit and didn't know how to go on. Her throat had closed as she thought about how she would be feeling, if it were Maureen, instead of Angel. Then she found herself feeling guilty when she thanked God that Maureen was okay. She had the love of her life, yet one of her best friends, only a few feet away, was dying inside from losing his.

Mark stared at Collins too, and really looked into his eyes. The spark that once lit him up, the spark that shined on everyone spreading happiness; spreading love, was gone. In his eyes was no bright light, and no sign of happiness. All Mark saw when he stared into Collins brown eyes, was pain, and on the other side of the pain, was nothing. And although Mark was already filled with anguish, he realized, while watching his best friend die inside, that heartbreak was contagious.

"I think," Mark started, trying to speak through his despair,"That maybe you should come out, in the waiting room, with us," he finished. It was hard to say, to tell a friend they need to leave their true love, but it had to be done. They couldn't leave Collins in there forever, especially when they needed to help him deal with it.

But Collins just sat there, silent, still holding Angel closely. There was no telling what Collins was thinking, or even telling whether or not he had even heard Mark speak. Even more worry sank into Mark and Joanne's body as they stood there for minutes. Collins spoke no words, or even produced the idea that he had heard them speak. All he did was lay there with Angel as if he was dead as well.

Joanne took a deep breathe and began walking slowly toward the hospital bed. Now she and Mark were right next to Collins and when she spoke, she spoke soft, knowing that he could hear them. "I know that you're hurt. I understand how you feel. I can see why you would want to be in here, but Angel doesn't need you any longer. We do." Lightly, she extended her hand, placing it softly on Collins' shoulder.

Everything hit Collins at once. Here his friends were, in the room where his soul mate had passed, and they were pulling him away. This wasn't comfort to him. This was more pain added. They needed him, but he needed Angel. He would always need Angel, and there was no way he was leaving. If he could, he would stay there for the rest of his life, which didn't seem too long, since he felt he was dying anyways.

"I think what Joanne is trying to say," Mark added. "Is that Angel is gone. I know how hard that is for you. I know that this is the worst feeling you will ever go through, but that's just it. You need to go through it. You can't just stop your life right here." Mark took a deep breathe as Collins didn't even acknowledge that he had spoken. It was like he was in shell, and there was no way to get him out. He couldn't even hear through it.

Joanne looked down at Collins, still holding her hand gently on his shoulder. Slowly, she massaged it, hoping that he would realize that the only thing they wanted to do was help him through this, not send more pain his way. But they didn't know what to do. They barely knew what they could do for themselves. They both had pain, so much pain, and they didn't know what to do with it. Knowing that they couldn't stop what was happening, could prevent further anguish, they stepped back out to the waiting room, where they could keep wishing that this wasn't really happening.

"What happened? Is he okay?" Maureen asked once Joanne reached her seat next to her. But there was something different now. Joanne's face was different. Somehow, it seemed hurt, even more. Slowly Joanne shook her head in response, unable to speak through the choke in her throat. "Honey," Maureen asked softly, staring at Joanne," Are you okay?" Once again, Joanne shook her head in a simple response. This time, tears rushed down her face. Maureen held her tight, stroked her head, and told her everything would be okay, although she didn't believe it herself.

Mark sat back in his seat as well, ignoring everyone and everything. There was just too much going on, too much to handle. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to keep himself from hyperventilating. He needed to be calm. He could handle this. He had to. Or could he? Throwing his hands in his face, he let his breathing go, and his sobs ran strong.

The same simple sounds of the hospital flooded everyone's ears, but this time, it was accompanied by strong, fearful cries. Benny, stood, with is head down, listening. Although they hadn't been close in years, Collins was truly one of his best friends. All of these things were getting to him. Benny didn't even know Angel, but if his friend was hurting this bad, she must have been an amazing person. Collins pain needed to end.

"I'm gonna go in there," he said softly, "We need to help him." Everyone looked up. They couldn't believe this was could be coming from Benny, the same man that kicked them to the curb to freeze. But here he was, willing to help their friend out, and they weren't about to pass that up.

"That's a good idea," Mimi said. It was the first time she'd spoken in so long, and she could barely choke the words out. Not only was Angel her best friend, but this brought back old nightmares. "Collins needs someone," she quickly agreed.

Benny nodded. It wasn't easy for him to speak either. He feared that if he spoke, cries would pour out. But he swallowed hard, and walked into the hospital room.

Collins hadn't seemed to move an inch. He sat there, as lifeless as the body he was holding, and stared, wide eyed, at his fallen love. Benny hadn't even had a conversation with Angel before, and here he was, trying not to fall apart along with his friend. He couldn't believe how he looked. He sat in the chair that was across from the bed, and stared at Collins trying his best to come up with some words, something that could possibly help. "Man, I know what you're going through, but you're not getting anything out of it, by sitting in here. It won't bring him back. He's gone, and you need to deal with that."

Maybe being assertive would do some good. All he could be looking for was guidance, and gentle approaches weren't exactly working. Some how this had to work. He was basically the last of the gang that had tried to revive Collins' spirit, other than Mimi, but she was almost as heart broken as Collins for his reason, and her own. They didn't expect much from her except strong tears.

Benny sighed. No response came from Collins as he spoke to him. "Man, I know what you are going through. Please. Angel isn't coming back," he repeated, not that saying Angel was gone would help. They didn't expect Collins to get over this. They just expected him to get through this, as they were all trying to do.

Benny shook his head although he knew Collins wasn't looking. He wanted to say more so badly, but didn't know what words to form. It wasn't easy to look at his best friend the way he was, and staring closed his throat so even when he tried to speak, even though he didn't know what he was saying, the words wouldn't come out anyways. Nothing would. Even the scream he wanted to form wouldn't. After all, he was horrified, as he thought more. Next it could be Collins... or it could be Mimi.

He couldn't take this. Slowly, he sighed wiping the tears form his eyes, and turned for the door. But just before he was about to walk out, a voice that he hadn't heard in so long spoke to him. It was soft and cracked as he went on. It was obvious that this was the first sounds he had made in so long. "Everyone keeps saying that they know what I'm going through..." Collins let out simply.

Benny smiled through his cries. Collins was talking. This was a start. He hadn't failed. He hadn't! But Benny had been so suprised that he had spoken in the first place, he didn't take the time to listen. "What are you talking about?" he asked softly, to both understand and hear his sweet voice speak again.

For the first time in hours, Collins took his eyes off of Angel and stared in Benny's direction. He saw so much pain and sorrow in Collins eyes. Benny thought he would never see eyes like this again, but there they were, the same eyes he had seen in Mimi the day Roger died. Benny couldn't look in them any longer, and pulled himself away from the stare that seemed to paralyze him... trap him in anguish.

"You don't know what I'm going through. None of you do. So stop saying it." Collins words were still soft, but the sounds of wounded man were evident. "Angel wasn't my boyfriend, wasn't my best friend, wasn't my lover. He was so much more than that. He was my soul mate... my soul. And with my soul mate, dies my soul." Benny looked back at Collins then, and he wasn't staring at him anymore. His eyes, his wounded eyes, were back on Angel, who was more than a person, but an angel indeed.

"I'm sorry," Benny seemed to choke out. But there was nothing left to be said because nothing could change the way things were. Nothing could bring Angel back, therefore nothing could take away Collins' pain. It was there, it was evident, and it wasn't leaving. Benny realized this, and slowly walked back to the others.

As he walked back, the others looked up in hope. Benny just shook his head. He was a failure. He had brought no satisfaction, no hope, and no cure for the broken heart that rested next to a broken soul.

The waiting room stayed silent, and they did just that, waited. There was nothing else to do. What could they do? None of them knew, because Collins was right all along. None of them knew how it felt. They could only imagine, and what they imagined was nothing compared to how it actually felt. Heartbreak sounded bad, it sounded _terrible, _but it was much more than that. Your heart didn't just break. It died a little too.

"I have to go in there," the small voice surprisingly came from Mimi. Everyone looked at her; both not being able to believe she would volunteer and concerned that she felt it was her responsibility. Could they really put her through this? But she stood up, and no one moved. She was really going to do this. She was hurting so bad, but she was putting it aside to help a friend. At that moment they all envied her courage.

She made her way to the room, slowly, and when she reached the door, she looked back. Each member of the gang gave their best smile, although it was probably the hardest thing they have done in days. Happiness was not something that could be forced, and that was obvious with their attempts at grins. But it didn't matter how happy they tried to seem, Mimi knew that they were only faking, and truly needed a new source of joy. She was going to find it.

When she walked in, she almost walked straight out. Flashes of Roger filled her brain. There was his smile, his piercing green eyes, and then there was the vision of when she had last seen him, in the same hospital. This was all a repetition of the worst day of her life. She turned away, unable to bare the sight, but swallowed hard and reminded herself that this was about Collins well being, not about herself.

"When Roger died," she started softly, sitting on the bed next to Collins, "I thought I would too. He was my sun. He lit up my sky. He was always there, keeping me warm and safe. But then the sun set, and Roger faded, and I seemed to fade along with him." Mimi had thought she was done crying, but here fresh tears were, streaming down her face. It seemed that they would never end.

"And then you got over it..." Collins huffed. Mimi wrapped her arm around his broad shoulders, crying into him, but still trying her best to speak, to end his pain.

"No. I've never gotten over it. I _can't_ get over it. And I don't plan on it. Our love was the most amazing thing I have ever felt. Why would I want to let that feeling go?" she asked, mostly to herself. She wasn't sure if Collins was even listening now, but still she went on, telling herself that it was going to be okay. "I still feel it though, because I never got over it. I got through it, through the grief. I'm not saying I'm happy all the time, because I'm not. I still miss Roger like hell, but I'm trying my best to make my time as good as possible. And when my time comes, I'll see Roger again. At least that's what I believe. And you know what?"

She asked looking over at him. He looked up at her with a soft, pleading look. "What?"

"I think I'm going to see Angel too." And then she put on a smile. She didn't have to fake it. It was real. "Like I said, I still have that feeling, and you will too. On a nice, bright day, I feel the warmth and I feel the security of the sun. I feel Roger. I feel_ love_."

Collins stared at her face. He couldn't believe a word she was saying. How could she not be hurting? She must've not loved Roger the way Collins loved Angel. But then again, he saw the same pain in her eyes when she spoke of Roger as he did when he thought of Angel. And her love for Roger was evident in her eyes. It reflected his own for Angel. Maybe -- No, not just maybe -- she _was_ in love with Roger. He knew that.

But he still couldn't believe. I mean, she would say anything to get him out of the room, right? But she did love Angel, almost as much has he did. They were best friends. Mimi was feeling the same way Collins did when Roger died. His best friend was gone, and he wasn't coming back. But he made it through that, so he could make it through this. But he wasn't in love with Roger... but Mimi was. She survived. Maybe he could too.

He stared into her eyes deeper and realized everything she said was true. She loved Roger just as much as he loved Angel, and here she was still, living through another loss... here she was, _living_. A faint smile resurfaced to his lips as he thought deeper. Mimi was okay. He could be okay. Without even realizing it, he wrapped his arms around Mimi and cried into her. Tears of pain, tears of sorrow, tears of joy that he had her. After all, here she was, being amazing, giving him what he really needed: _Hope_.

Mimi cried into him, too, so happy that he was actually trying. She had succeeded. She watched as Collins gently kissed Angel on the forehead. It was hard to see; it was a reflection of her past, but she managed. After all, she was here to help Collins, and that had worked. Hand in hand, together they existed the hospital room. Collins desperately looked back, but closed his eyes tight. _Hope, _he thought to himself, _I can make it. _

For the last time, Collins looked back. "I love you, Angel," he said softly, with his voice shaky, but firm, and walked away to the beginning of a new revival.

* * *

**A/N: This fic is not supposed to be about Collins getting over the loss of Angel. After all, how could he? It's about living and hoping that one day he will see his love again. I think hope is something that everyone needs, and I believe that Collins would never let himself die. Angel wouldn't let him. **

**I really hoped you enjoyed this. I had a fun time writing it. It's not exactly a one-shot, at least I'm not sure. I may or may not add more. (I am actually rather bad at keeping up with fics). I will try to add more and keep up with this because I actually liked this one. I hope you did, too.**

**Reviews are rather nice, too. Thank you.**


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